


Tale As Old As Time, Song As Old As Rhyme.

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, And so is my OC, Anthony is 17, Bill Cipher Redemption, Bill doesn't know how to interact with humans, Bondage, Decapitation, Dipper is 17 in here, Dry Orgasm, F/M, Fingering, God Bill Cipher, Gravity Falls - Freeform, He takes OC hostage, Homophobia, Human Bill Cipher, Insane Bill Cipher, Kinky, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mystery shack is still there, NSFW, Nice Bill Cipher, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Characters - Freeform, Over stimulation, Porn With Plot, Prais kink, Protective Bill Cipher, Ridding, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Top Bill Cipher, Torture, Twink, Unintentional Anorexia, hicky kink, like a lot of plot, tags will be updated as chapters progress, waterbording
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Being back in Gravity Falls, even after all these years-it still sends a bit of a thrill down dippers spine. He always enjoyed exploring the new, old, and undiscovered creatures of the sleepy town. But this year, instead of his twin sister joining him for the summer, its an old, good friend of theirs.- Anthony, who just wanted to find a quiet town so he could spend his summer days reading and relaxing, finds himself pleased when the town is exactly as the tourists said; small, peaceful and quiet. Not even a weeks passes, and dipper has somehow reunited with one of the most dangerous creatures ever recorded in gravity falls.and he's infatuated with Anthony.





	1. That One Town Down The Road, Where The Birds Don't Sing.

The dull rumbling of the bus’s engine had managed to rock the smaller body into a light sleep, brown sweater almost swallowing the thin frame of a teen; his head was up, leaning against the cool window, knees drawn up into his chest, (an action he would regret later when his legs resisted any movement).  His companion, a large, brown haired boy had his face almost pressed to the pages of a book thicker than his friends head; tufts of brown hair the only thing you could see, not including the strange marks across his forehead.

The wheels of the mostly empty bus rolled to a stop in-front of a large expanse of trees, only broken by the poorly-done pavement of what should have been a parking lot provided for a small shop. The sudden stop pulled the larger of the two out of his book and into reality, lightly checking his friend in the shoulder, dragging him into consciousness.

The teen forced himself into coherency, gazing around dazedly for a moment before gathering his bearings; accepting the shoulder bad handed to him by his taller friend as he pushed himself up and onto unsteady legs, still weak and shaky from sleep. The two walked to the doors of the bus, the taller one fixing his hat accordingly as they departed the vehicle, stepping into the midday light.

                                                                   

A group of people awaited their arrival; a tall red-headed woman, pale skin dotted with freckles and a fierce power in her stance. Waiting next to her, was a larger adult man with short-shaven hair and a too-tight 'staff' shirt stretched over his large stomach. The two men approaching them looked to be in their late 70's, one detouring off course to hug his companion, the other striding powerfully to shake the newcomers hand politely.

“My name is Stanford Pines, the one currently suffocating your friend is my twin brother, Stanley Pines. It's wonderful to finally meet the young man keeping my niece and nephew out of too much trouble." A smile graced the aged face as the smaller grasped the hand in a strong, albeit small handshake. "I'm Anthony Belladonna, but you may call me-" "Tony! Come on over and meet my friends!" Anthony sighed, letting his head drop slightly before releasing the handshake and joining his friend, a slight pout to his stance as Dipper grabbed him by the shoulders and introduced him to the rest of the group.

 "This is Soos and Wendy. Their co-workers, and like some of my closest friends." The taller of the two, Wendy smiled and held out her hand in a polite shake, the paleness of her skin seeming almost tan compared to Anthony's. A thought popped into his mind, "Aren't you the one who bet Dipper to eat three cans of easy-cheese in ten minutes?"

 

  "Oh man, he still tells that story?? Yeah dude, that's me," Tony released the grip of a handshake and turned to face the large man, Soos- "And you must be the one who tried to fly the golf cart over five parked cars; I've got to admit, Dippn'Dotts still got the worst judgement when it comes to having safe friends." Anthony Smiled as he rebounded from the light push from his friend, forcing most of his weight to lean back into the body.

 "After that shit ride, you've gotta be starving. Dipper here'll show you the room, then we'll let you two clean up and show you this amazing diner down in town." Dipper, before Anthony could complain, lifted the shoulder bag, (filled with books and not clothes, like what a sensible person would do) and grabbed his own set of bags and luggage before making his way to the house; throwing a "Follow me to the place of your dreams," behind his shoulder jokingly.

 Anthony rolled his eyes before striding behind his friend. As dipper made his way up the stairs, a small draft caused Anthony to wrap his sweater around himself tighter, goose bumps raising on his arms as he pushed through the doorway, up into the attic of the shop. He let his eyes roam around the, obviously recently refurnished room; the entire room itself was split into twos. On one side, (Dippers side) the walls were painted an egg-shell white, and the carpet a light blue. His bed set was solid black with a set of matching bedside-tables and dresser.

On the other side, the walls were painted a light mint green, the thick shag carpet, (Unlike Dippers side, which was a normal carpet length) was a dark purple. The bed set, which matched the frame of the bed as a white, pink and blue polka dot style. He, instead of having a bed side table had a large vanity set with connecting drawers that could hold his entire closet and then some.

Dipper sighed after throwing his bags on the floor, removing his black tennis-shoes thrown haphazardly to the side of his bed as he flopped down onto the sheets, his hat now askew and covering his eyes and nose. “Can I just sleep for, like, ten years? ‘Cause that seems like a pretty good idea right about now.” He stretched his arms above his head, the limbs lying against the wall and sighed.

 

The black shirt he wore rose slightly above his belly button, showcasing an old scar Anthony put there himself. A pretend-fencing accident gone wrong when they were 7, leading to Dipper in the hospital followed by Anthony and Mabel, cuddled together in one seat sniffling quietly. There were a few beats of silence as Anthony studied how own bed-sheets, the dark black covers contrasting strangely to the green of the walls and purple carpet under his feet.

The ride in the bus had been a 7 hour long one, and while Anthony slept most of the way, he knew Dipper too well to try and fool himself that the young man had at least taken a nap. "Hey dude, you still need to give me a tour of your wonderful adobe." Anthony had made his way to Dipper and lightly poked his ribs, causing the larger body to twitch violently and swat at the offending hand.

"Come on dude, I want to be able to wash my ass before your friends force me out into the real world." Again, the body refused to move, even with the added weight of 100 lbs. of Anthony on his chest. "Dipper you know I am not above licking your face to get what I want; up." At this Dipper groaned and sat up, pushing his friend down into the floor. "Fine, but it's your fault of we walk into a room and suddenly we can’t say any word with the letter 'A' in it."

 

The tour of the place itself was kinda boring; there were a few rooms, mostly stuffed with a bunch of old props and objects Anthony would probably go through later; the main part of the shop had been nearly empty, and the kitchen was as disorganized as the rest of the house. The bathroom was like a beam of light through a cloudy day, and through the tour he had been a dazed mess of 'beluga', his skin felt dirty, his hair was sticking to his forehead and he felt like he could suffocate an entire stadium with his BO.

 Thankfully, the place was small enough; the tour was over in less than five minutes and his shower was awaiting him. He spent as long as he could without seeming rude, washing every inch as thoroughly as possible; the cold water waking him up and chilling him to the bone in no time. He couldn't take the time to shave his legs, the goose bumps on his shin making the short stubble pop up like weeds.  _"Honestly,"_  He thought,  _"why have I never invested time into waxing? Seems like a lot less trouble to wax every few weeks than shave every three days."_  

With that parting thought, he shut the water off and shook himself of the heavy dew drops before stepping out, pale skin almost luminescent in the bright lights of the bathroom. He grabbed the towel and violently rubbed his head, sopping up as much water as he could out of the thick strands before rubbing the cloth over his skin absentmindedly, fabric catching on the scabs across his arms and legs slightly, causing small blotches of red to dot his skin.

He pulled a pair of boxers out of his bag, followed by a grey and black long sleeve, a pair of black jeans and some purple fluffy socks. He dressed quickly, stuffing his dirty clothes in his arms and sliding the bag over his shoulder before making his way out of the bathroom, casting a glance at his reflection before he went. A mess of curled black hair (Still dripping with water, no matter how long he took to dry it), pale skin with a flush of pink from the freezing water, high cheek bones and dark circles under his blue eyes met his flicker of a gaze before he emerged into the hallway.

 A shout of "Tony!” was his only warning before he felt something collide with his shoulder harshly, jerking the teen forward and into the frame of the door violently. He dropped everything in his arms upon impact, and his clothes scattered across the carpet as feet quickly approached him. "Oh my god dude, I am so sorry." Wendy held out a hesitant hand, not sure whether to help him up or not before dipper started laughing, his head thrown back and a hand on his mid-section.

 "Jesus dude, after all these years, you still can’t get out of the way." Wendy sat there for a second, feeling lost before Tony began laughing along with his friend, leaning down to pick his bag and scattered clothes up. "Yeah well, I can’t move out from the destruction of a tennis ball, but you can’t throw a punch to save your life." "Bull shit! That one time in fifth grade-" "You do realize the only reason you won that fight was because of Mabel and I, right?" Dipper spluttered for a moment, a red hue overcoming his cheeks as he attempted to defend his honor while Anthony gently pat his cheeks twice; throwing out a "Come on, I'm starving; let's drop my shit in our room and go eat."

 And eat they did. The teens, including the freshly 20 year old Wendy and Soos, walked the two miles to the Diner in town, the dark streets deserted aside from the random person every few minutes. Laughing, the group of misfits made their way through the diner doors and into the abandoned dining area, seating themselves in an old, torn booth. The table top was stained with coffee rings and had a slight sticky film on it; although it wasn't exactly the cleanest place, the smell of coffee and cheap maple syrup made Tony fell warm inside, like he was back at his grandmother’s house after his mom left home and dad passed out on the couch.

She would get up, at any hour (day or night) and make him his favorite banana pancakes, listening to a little five year old rant about a favorite book, or the new thing he saw in the park and _“Can we go there tomorrow, grandma?"_  

"Are you ready to order, or do you need a little longer?" An old woman, silver hair and a drooping left eye lid was standing next to their booth. "I think we're ready; we’ll have two coffees, black, a diet cherry coke, and two sweet teas.” The lady made some comment about it being a little too late for coffee, but went back to the counter to pour their drinks out. "Dipper, dude don't you think it's too late for coffee?" "Oh, the coffee isn't for me, it's for this psycho,-"

He thrust his thumb in Tony's direction, who raised his hand sheepishly, "Because he decided to live the life of a vampire; he tries his hardest to avoid the idea of sleep at any and all costs.” Anthony rolled his eyes and shoved his bonny shoulder into his friends arm, not even budging his bigger friend. "Yeah, well at least I sleep at all; the past three years Mable and I would have to duct-tape you to your bed to get you to sleep." Dipper scoffed indigently, nodding his thanks when the lady came over with their drinks on a platter, leaning over to place the glasses of liquid on the table; the two coffee cups were the last thing she placed down, and Anthony seemed to sing his praise of the tar-like liquid.

Anthony inhaled the smell of burnt coffee with a smile as he brought the steaming liquid to his lips, blowing gently before taking a tentative sip of the black tar; humming happily when the scolding drink trailed down his throat. Time passed slowly, the group getting to know Anthony a little more, telling tales of zombies and secret passages in trees until the lady came around again, collecting dinner orders.

Dipper placed all their orders down, as per usual of the one who pays, "We'll do three orders of chicken and fries, and one order of banana pancakes and sausage, please." Again, the order received a strange look and a comment of ‘isn’t it a bit late for that, hun?’

 But this time she didn't comment and instead jotted the orders down on a note pad and placed it in the window of the kitchen, leaving the teens to themselves once again. It had been well past midnight when the group decided they should depart from the closing diner, belly's full and eyes drooping. Half way back to the mystery shack, Wendy separated from their path to her own home, throwing a half-assed wave over her shoulder as she walked on.

Soos diverted from their path a few minutes later, offering them a smile and a "Later, dudes," before passing through the thresh-hold of his grandmother’s home. The two were left to themselves, a cold wind passing Tony and compelling him to wrap his arms around his small frame; no matter what he wore, he was always so cold.

The moon was full, bright enough to light their bath clearly; the shine reflecting off the random puddles left from the rain the day before. By the time they got back to the shack, the clock read 2:34 A.M, and as Dipper yawned and stretched his arms above his head, he removed his hat and jacket, throwing them onto the bench behind him before shucking his belt, shoes and socks and throwing his body onto his bed. "Tony, dude, please be a sensible human and sleep; I know you’re not used to the action, but trust me on this, it's great." "Oh fuck off dude, I remember when you'd drink half my coffee supply and stay up with me for 38 straight hours before crashing; don't try and lecture me you hypocrite."

 It was no use, Dipper was out like a light half-way into Anthony's scolding. The teen sighed into his pillow, hiding his face in the fabric, his mind completely oblivious to his friend’s disappearance. Tony made his way down the stairs, his light footsteps avoiding the creak of the hard wood floors as he made his way into the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee as he sat himself on the counter, pulling the pages of his book open and eyes flitting over the printed letters like they were the object of god.

His mind elsewhere, he didn't notice the pot itself was done until 15 minutes later, when he felt around for a mug of coffee that wasn't even made yet; before he hopped off the counter, another shiver ran up his spine and to his neck, where it spread down his chest and to his arms.

Shivering, he crossed his arms around himself and hunched lightly, grabbing a white mug from the cupboards and pouring the now lukewarm substance into the porcelain cup. He opened his book and sat up on the dining table, shag carpet under his feet a warm welcome to his stone-cold limbs.

 He crossed his legs under himself, fabric of jeans rubbing together obnoxiously as he settles into his book once more; the time on the clock reading at 3:00 A.M, of course unbeknownst to Tony, who was enthralled with the lettering that flew across his eyes, flashing in his mind and being stored for later review. His mind absorbed any information, his body shivering slightly, his eyes too occupied to move from the texts appearing before his eyes to care.

Next thing he knew, he was almost finished the book, the last few sentences being absorbed; his mind didn't register his friend calling his name, not until someone yanked the book from his grasp, dislodging him from his trance and forcing a yelp from his lips. "Dude, were you up all night again? You do know normal people, they need sleep; you do understand that, right? It's important to me you know this." Dipper held the book above his head, casting a judgmental look to the empty mug of coffee, and the empty coffee maker pot behind him.

"I'm used to not sleeping. Mostly, I believe that something that unproductive, that could be replaced efficiently by coffee, which brings with it the added bonus of making me feel like a bomb about to explode, well I think it has very little to no value.”  The disapproving look that was cast his way lead him to believe that did not, in fact, help his case of no-sleep.

Tony forced his limbs to move, removing himself from the table and reaching up to try and snag his book from the hypocritical giant that currently help all the physical power in their friendship. "Dude come on this is so unfair; what about all the nights you sat up reading that journal of yours? You would spend days with your face in that thing."

 "That doesn't count and you know it; that journal has helped me save countless lives, not including the time I saved the world from-" "Yeah, Dorito the demon-triangle. You've mentioned this; give me my book back!" He made an attempt at jumping, he couldn't even reach his friends wrist.

 

 

 

He, instead of being sensible and letting the issue go, decided to start climbing his friend; hand wrapping around his shoulder as his legs trapped his waist, his hand finally coming up to grasp the spine of the paperback book.

With a yelp of triumph, he released the pressure around his friends waist and fell to the ground, landing like a cat; silently and softly. He grinned up at his friends shocked face and dashed down the hallway, hearing the cry of "Anthony!"

Before he opened the front door, bare feet tickled by the moist grass under the arches of his feet. The sun has just risen above the sky line, Wendy's parked car the only object in the parking lot, the woman herself leaning against the hood, fingers making a mad dash across the screen. She looked up momentarily, lifting her hand up in a wave and a smile gracing her face when Tony returned it. "Hey Tony. Dipper, Soos and I were going to head out into the woods to hang out; you wanna join?"

The offer surprised Anthony; people didn't normally enjoy his company all that much, given he was a very anti-social person who did not want to be separated from his coffee and books. He hesitated for a moment.

 _"What do I say? Am I allowed to accept or should I say no and let them catch up with each other? I'm going to bore them in a few hours, they'll just leave me to the wolves and I'll die a cold, gruesome death-"_   "Yeah, sure I'll come with. Just let me get changed and grab Dipper." Wendy waved him off with a smirk, "No problem; we both know how long it takes pretty boy to get ready."

 

 

 

A gust of wind blew a lock of hair out of Anthony's eye as he stepped back up the door way, avoiding the almost-collision of his friend upon entrance. "Dude, get dressed; we're going on an adventure." "Oh shit, right I slept in fuck-"

Dipper ran up the stairs and into the bathroom, while Tony just went up to their room and changed from his black and grey shirt to a soft, dark green sweater with a brown, fur coated jacket over it, lacing a pair of brown boots up his thin ankles quickly. He stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket, lifting his small leather bag up to his bed to stuff a flashlight, switch blade and water bottle in it.

Dipper appeared in the door way, stuffing his hat onto his head as he began searching through his many bags and luggage, stuffing random things into Anthony’s backpack until he was satisfied. “Are you ready for your first real adventure in Gravity Falls?”

 "Yeah dude, let's go and solve some fucking mysteries."


	2. A Forest Of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya! chapter two, we're already plowing through this shitty fanfic!!!!!

Ordinarily, the forest would naturally be quiet; but here, there wasn’t a single sound to be heard (Excluding the group themselves), the morning sun just beginning to peak over the mountain’s edge and the moist air thick and cold against their lungs. Wendy had layered on a leather coat over a thick flannel jacket, paired with black jeans and black boots that laced up to her shin’s; she walked with a certain air to her, that seemed like she could (And would,) kick you through a tree with no effort.

 Dipper changed into a blue button up covered by a black jacket and the same jeans he had arrived in gravity falls with; his hat was pulled onto his head and the cap tilted down to hide his eyes as they scanned the large map he and his friends had created over the years they’ve explored the woods.

From what Anthony was allowed a glimpse of, they still had what looked like years left to completely map the forest out; it seemed to stretch out forever, reaching to hide any crevice and cave it could.

The birds made no sound, there weren’t any deer or bears that Anthony had seen or heard. He felt a chill run through his body at the silence, but ignored it in favor of talking with Wendy, who was explaining her college courses to the teens. They continued on, pushing past risen roots, fallen trees and weeds while chatting aimlessly. “So what’s the plan here, wander aimlessly like teens in a horror movie or is there an actual destination?”

 A glare from over the map was his answer, and when Tony rolled his eyes Dipper decided to kick a pebble in his direction. Anthony shot out, “What are you, 12?” “Yeah, on a scale of 1-10.” Tony snorted before he could help himself, flicking a piece of bark his way. “Okay ladies, you’re both pretty, can we continue?” (Wendy, as usual, had something to say) before Tony could retort, they all heard running footsteps and a loud “Dude’s, wait up!” from behind them.

 Turning, Tony watched as Soos ran towards them, large form plowing through the quiet landscape of the woods. “Soos, my dude, what took you so long?” “Sorry man, my grandma, she needed help with the dishes.” He rubbed the back of his neck lightly; Tony watched the thought process behind Wendy’s eyes, before she smiled and threw an arm around Soos’ shoulders. “No problem, man. Come forth, let us explore!”

 

Two hours passed as they trudged deeper into the woods, the sun had finally risen above their heads, and the heat warmed them up slightly; the cold morning dew finally passes as the temperature rose. Before nine, the group had managed to reach the end of what their map had, finally making it into unmarked territory. The trees had thickened, not five feet apart from the other as the four passed through, silence still heavy.

 “Hey, anybody else notice that?” Wendy looked confused, and dipper casts a glance over his shoulder. “Well, it’s really quiet. A forest shouldn’t be quiet, right?” “Yeah, but this place is different.” Dipper stumbled over a branch as he continued, “the forest has a lot more than some deer and bears; it has shit no other place in the world has. Most of the normal animals and bugs in this place have learned to be quiet.” That didn’t exactly comfort him, but he pushed that aside for now.

 Ordinarily he’d have a cup of coffee in his hand and a book on his lap right now, maybe finishing his summer report from school; not trailing through a forest, vines trying to trap his legs in the mud and keep him there. “So all we’re doing is mapping out more of the forest?” “Basically _.”_

 Tony snorted when Soos put a large, twirled stick to his forehead and proclaimed “I am the great bro-nicorn, I shall grant you one wish!” Wendy got on one knee and pleaded, “Oh wonderful, merciful bro-nicorn; please let me pass my math class!” “Your wish has been granted.” Soos blew a raspberry, waving his arms around as Wendy laughed, shielding her face with her arms as Dipper proclaimed, “Alright you guys, come on; I think I found something!”

 

The ‘something’ turned into a cave; the mouth tall and wide, able to swallow them all in one. “I hope someone brought a flashlight or something.” Wendy pulled one from her backpack, flashing the light into the mouth of the cave as she pushed forward.

The cave leant downwards, into a black nothingness; they all pushed in, walking for only a few moments when light started peering from the end of the cave. “Aw, what? It can’t be that small, right?” Before anyone could answer Dippers question, the met the end of the cave and- “…wow…”

 

The cave wasn’t even a cave; it was the inside of an old, dormant volcano. The top traveled for what seemed like miles up, the bottom its own forest. The trees went up for ever, a few hundred feet at least; not to mention the width of the volcano. It looked like it went on for miles, its own little world. The group ended at a small cliff, peering down onto the solid floor not ten feet down.

 “Okay, who wants to go first?” Wendy looked back at Dipper, when Anthony (encouraged by a burst of adrenaline,) leapt forward; the wind stinging his sensitive skin and his heart pumping in his ears. He panicked when the ground got closer, his body making solid contact with the ground, forcing his legs to buckle. He lent his weight forward, rolling for a second before stopping.

He looked up at the others, smiling and waving up, “What’cha waiting for? Come on!” Wendy shrugged before jumping, tucking and rolling with more grace than Anthony could ever muster; Soos followed, (though he insisted on climbing down the side) Dipper was last, taking a deep breath before leaping down, landing on his feet and rolling down a little less gracefully than Wendy, but with more control than Tony.

He looked up from the ground, wiping dirt from his person as he glanced around, eyes widening at the expanse of the-“What should we even call this place?” Wendy pipped up, exuding an air of joy as she gazed around. “Sauron,” was the automatic response, coming from two different mouths, one writing the name down on a blank space of his map, the other trailing from the group to look up at a large tree; its branches spreading out like a virus.

 Anthony felt eyes on him, like someone was watching his every move. He looked at the others, who were surrounding Dipper talking about what they could do here. “Dipper!” He pulled his gaze away from the two adults for a moment, “I wanna see if I can find another entrance; I’ll scream if I see anything.”

 

He made a face at the thought, a twist of his features that looked wrong on his usually smiling face. “I don’t know, Tony; this place isn’t like what you’re used to. It’s dangerous, and I never like it when someone goes off on their own….”

Tony widened his eyelids and made to cry, a glaze overcoming his eyes and his bottom lip jutting out. “Dipper come on man, he can walk off for a few minutes, right?” Wendy added, waving Tony off anyway with a “we’ll give you half an hour; knock yourself out.” Before Dipper, his best friend (And current mother, apparently) could disapprove, Anthony was already running off. His legs pushed through the moss and vines growing on the volcanic earth, hurling over rocks and fallen trees for a few minutes before it opened up to a clearing. Sitting in the middle of the clearing was a statue.

 

It was a little smaller than Anthony himself, (Which is saying something, considering he’s barely above 5ft tall) in the shape of a triangle. _“Holy shit it looks like the illuminati triangle had sex with a 1950’s male dancer; this is the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen.”_

He jerked his phone out of his jacket pocket, quickly snapping a photo of the statue before looking around at the expanse of grass and flowers. “You know, this place isn’t so bad, once you get used to it.” He sat crisscross in front of the statue, leaning back on his hands and looking up to the sky; watching the clouds take form above himself.

“It’s nice, quiet if you ignore enough of the freaky shit. “ He brought his eyes down to the statue, its eye boring into his own, “How about you? Someone make you then just dump you in here? Guess this place isn’t so hush-hush secrete, huh?”

He scooted closer, running his hand down the expanse of stone; it was cold to the touch, very smooth and solid. “I have to admit, you’re not the strangest thing I’ve come across today; though you push up to a close second.” The wind blew past him strongly, forcing the tree branches around him to shudder violently; leaves falling to the ground around him.

He removed his gaze from the surrounding trees, pulling his eyes back to the triangle and smiling to himself. “Not even a week here and I’m talking to myself,” he paused and looked into its eyes, “Or even worse, to you.” Just then, his wrist watch started beeping, the hands pointing towards the 12 at the top and- “Oh shit it’s time to go!” He jumped up to his feet and tore ass back the way her came, towards the mouth of the exit.

 

Dipper, Soos and Wendy were there waiting for him; dipper looked about ready to pass out, Soos waved and Wendy gave him a smile and an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Come on guys, let’s bail; I’m all adventured out for today.” Dipper yawned, raising is arms above his head, the map long gone, (Folded into his backpack, inside of its laminated cover) “Yeah, I don’t know about you dudes, but I’m ready to go. This place is crazy-bonkers-creepy.” Soos rubbed his neck nervously when Wendy laughed.

“Oh come on guys, it’s not that creepy, right Tony?” She looked over to the boy and- _“Shit Shit Shit what do I do people aren’t my forte I don’t know how to talk to normal people fuck-““_ I actually don’t mind the place, it’s nice and quiet; seems like a good area to sit down and relax.” Wendy smiled, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pointed at the other two, “See? It’s awesome here!”

 

But before they were even half way out of the forest, Wendy seemed to deflate a little; letting the silence fill the air in a relaxed calm. It was strange for Anthony, to see the woman who seemed as if she was always ready to spar (Be it physical or verbal) so calm and quiet.

They had made it back to civilization by five pm, and it was only when he was seated at the kitchen table, exchanging stories about Dipper’s childhood with his great-uncles (Dipper protesting in the background, trying to place a hand on Tony’s mouth when he re-lived the tree-house story) did Anthony realize something, _“I just spent an entire day, with a bunch of people who seemed like they enjoyed my company-“_

A large hand was placed on top of his head, messing his hair up violently as Stanly, tall and mighty adult of the house, ordered the teens to bed. He smiled as he walked up the stairs, Dipper grumbling slightly, even as he yawned in the midst of brushing his teeth. _“Yeah, I could get used to this.”_ He wished Dipper a good night as they laid in their beds, Dippers snores filling the peaceful quiet in a matter of minutes.

 

 

 

 

The night was cool and brisk, chilling the small teen to the bone as he made his way into the woods. The fully lit moon guiding him through the maze of bark and weeds. Finally, seemingly hesitant sounds of grass hoppers filled the quiet; he leisurely made his way into the forest, mapping out landmarks like the-“Heh, boob rock,”

He stumbled through the large mouth of the cave, finally stepping through to the inner forest. The light of the moon entered the opening of the volcano, shining down on Anthony as he walked through the forest. Here, bugs chirped and owls hooted. Things in here, they felt peaceful; like they were guarded and safe.

After a few moments he made it back to the clearing; the same flowers and vines, the same soft dirt, same grass and the same statue. “No matter what, you’ll be the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” He giggled to himself as he softly circled the statue, running his hand up the large top hat and down to the arms that sat raised up to the sky.

He circled it once, twice before plopping down right in-front of it, leaning his back against its front and opening his book up. (Of course, “The Fall of the Roman Empire” Dipper had gotten him for his birthday last year,) The light from the moon made for a perfect lamp, not too harsh or too dim. He read about the building of the city, the structure of the government, the wars and battles and-

His eyes begged for sleep, but his brain begged for more and like always, his brain won out. He read until his vision blurred, reaching up to rub his dry eyes vigorously; hours had passed and the moon was still out, albeit much further along into the night than when he began. The information was flowing through him, and the thought of _“There’s 50 more pages, we can push through.”_

And as usual, he did; the thermos of coffee managed to keep him through the night again, and the final pages were listing through the last push that put the Roman’s to extinction. He closed his eyes for a moment. Leaning his head back against the stone statue before snapping the book shut, a small shred of paper sticking out from his page.

He spun in place, the world twirling around his dizzy eyes for a moment before it settled. He, once again, was eye to eye with the statue. “So what happens now, eh?” No answer. “I guess I’ll have to give you a name if I’m gonna be talking to you….”  As if expecting a response, he let silence settle in-between human and stone for a moment as he thought.

“I could call you…” He looked back to the closed book in his lap, running through a list of names in his head, “Caiu, Cezar, Indibil, Achilles…. Never actually realized how hard it is to name someone until you’re presented with the challenge.” He let a moment of silence take over, laying down on the grass to stare up at the bright stars, shining through the opening of the volcano.

“Otho!” He let his upper body shoot up, the name escaping as a shout of excitement. “I’ll call you Otho- and never mind, just realized I’ve spent 15 minutes of my life trying to name an inanimate object that I’ve decided to start talking to for absolutely no other reason other than I’m going insane.”

 

He left the cave at around five AM, giving him enough time to walk back to the Shack before any sensible person was alive and thinking. He entered the threshold at 6:50, shedding himself of the old clothes of last night and jumping into the shower; ridding himself of the unwanted dirt, smell and hair that dusted over his body.

He ended up in a light blue sweater (its sleeves were floofed out at the wrist; he always felt like an 18th century prostitute in this one) with a pair of black leggings and plain, white socks. He walked into their shared bedroom, his head bent and hands running the towel through the wet locks of hair as he shook his companion, “Dude, wake up.” He shuffled over to his dresser/vanity and folded his towel, placing it on the top of the vanity as he pulled his hair dryer out, plugging it in before he began to shuffle through his stuff.

When Dipper had yet to move, Anthony rolled his eyes and began to do his morning routine; he primed his face with moisturizer, sprayed a frizz-proof stay-in conditioner in his hair before blow drying it, (He always made some type of sexual blow-job joke to start his day) and smoothed a concealer stick under his eyes, around the edge of his nose, his chin and forehead before blending. By the time he was done his hair was completely dry, (a mess of soft curls on top of his head) his face was clear of any dark circles or bruising, and he was ready to beat the shit out of the day.

He turned around in his seat to look back at his friend, who has yet to move from the position of dead-asleep. “Dipper, wake up!” He threw his still wet towel towards his friends face; unsurprisingly, he remained dead to the world of the (at least semi) living.

Anthony, now a little frustrated, grabbed his polka dot pillow and strutted over to his friend’s bed, where he proceeded to stuff the fluffy object into his friends face.  A moment passed until Dipper realized what was happening, his arms flailing about; trying to knock Anthony off his chest blindly. “You’re up now, aren’t you fucker?”

At that exclamation, Anthony was shoved off and onto the floor, where Dipper proceeded to poke his fingers into the tender meat (But mostly bone) of Tony’s side, a squeak leaving the teens lips before he snorted, kicking about for a solid minute before dipper got off, leaving his friend a puddle of gasping giggles as he pulled a shirt up and over his head, covering his scarred chest with a red flannel shirt.

 

“Okay, so today I think we should go to the mall and get a few things, like milk that’s not out of date by three weeks-how are you guys even alive at this point?” Tony was leaning head-first into the fridge, hands clasping a gallon of milk that was, as previously stated, three weeks out of date. “Honestly, I don’t know at this point; we once all ate soup that was two years out and felt fine.” Anthony lent his head into the door of the fridge and closed it, throwing the solid milk into the trash can.

“That’s it, we’re going out to the mall and getting actual food, within the expiration date; I need more film for my camera anyway.” Dipper perked up at the muttering attached to the end of Anthony’s statement, “Oh yeah, I forgot you brought that with you; planning anything?”

Dipper raised his eyebrows and wiggled them for effect, causing Tony to cringe in disgust. “Ew, no; this is the first time being out of a big town or city. I wanted some shots of the moon and stars without all of the light pollution, besides, Mabel already tried to bribe me for nudes of some hot guys here.” At that, Dipper’s face twisted, a gagging noise escaping his mouth as he shuddered in revulsion.

 

 

 

“Of course, OF FUCKING COURSE, the day I want to relax, you decide to go and piss off some fucking flying eye-ball thing.” Anthony, at this point, was seething. He was having a good day; he found some of his favorite perfume for half the usual cost, had bought all the ingredients to a good stew Stanford offered to teach to Tony; he had even bough film for his camera.

Then Dipper-fucking-Pines decided to go all explorer on him and venture off into the woods, disturbing a nest of eyeball bat things that fought with a vengeance; plowing their body’s through any and everything in their paths.

Right now, he was crouching behind the overturned golf cart; the sound of crackling wood as eyeballs the size of a car were running rampant around the shack. Dipper franticly flipped pages in his little fucking nerd book, muttering curse words before turning to his friend. “No this is impossible; they only appear at night.”  

“Yeah well, obviously not, because there right there!” He peered over the cart, watching the three eyes flip their shit and ram into everything. Thankfully, the Shack had yet to be slammed; the same couldn’t be said for the trees, rocks and (Nearly) the two teens.

“So what we need to do is take-“ “Let me stop you there.” Dipper glanced up from his book, confused and panicked. “You can’t always rely on that book of yours, Dippin’Dots; you have to be able to think it through; Stanford admitted that most of the information in the book is just a line of theories narrowed down to a possible solution. Even I know that doesn’t always work. See the optic nerves? Their connected, like a three-way fork. They all lead to the same thing, right?”

 Dipper nodded franticly, “So, that would mean they are sending information to the same place; they watch out for the other.” Dipper looked a little less panicked, nodding along with Anthony’s plan. (It’s not like he’s some genius; he’s seen Naruto. He knows how this works.)

“So if we get all three’s attention in one place, someone can come up from behind and-““And cut the central never, which would render movement impossible.” Anthony felt a wave of relief wash over him; Dipper may be smart, but when faced with true panic he was useless in the brain area.

Anthony flipped the cart onto its wheels, placed himself in the driver’s seat. He closed his eyes, inhaled shakily and stepped on the gas pedal, circling around the nest of eyes; once, twice and- “Go!” he drove off to the right, the momentum flinging him off the cart itself as it continued to drive off the property.

The eyes began following it, all three trained on the vehicle when Anthony took hold of the shovel Dipper tossed his way, and violently swung it down onto the pack of nerves bundled up behind the eyeballs. The nerve ball made a squishing sound as the metal tip dug into the fleshy material; the eyes flopped to the ground useless, twitching every so often.

 

 

“You know what, no. I’m done for today. I’m not cleaning up the mess; you’re the one who brought them here in the first place. You can burn the eyeballs while Stanford and I make dinner.” If ever there was an emotion of ‘done’ it would be Anthony, personified. His poor prostitute shirt was dirty, and his hair had bits of eye meat in it.

Dinner was quiet, everyone involved was tires; the Stan’s, from dealing with beginning-summer tourists, the teens from murderous eyeballs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m totally ready for bed, dude.” Dipper looked honestly shocked which-okay, fair. “Are you sick? Did the eyeball meat infect you?” “Oh fuck off dude.”

 

“Goodnight.” “’Night.” Anthony fell into a deep sleep, the feeling of a warm hand on his back the last thing he remembered before falling into darkness.


	3. A bed Of Sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Please read all the tags before proceeding.

_He woke up in a room that was very, very much so, not_ _his (_ _if the sight of large posts circling him, their drapes pulled in to keep him hidden was anything to go by). He had been laid down on a large black bed with smooth, silky sheets gliding under his palm. He tried to lift himself on his knees, reaching out to pull the drapes open and glance around the extremely dark room, (He couldn’t see an inch ahead of his nose) when a pair of large hands wrapped around his middle; the sharp, knife like nails threatened to break through his paper-thin skin when they pulled him back into the chamber of a bed._  

 _The hands pulled him back onto a solid chest, the others body heat made Anthony feel light and overheated, as if he sat in front of a fire for too long. The hands around his waist trailed all over, one raising goosebumps along his sides where it its nail was dragging along skin sensually. The other ran down his middle slowly, towards his waist band; the gentle touch of its palm a warm comfort, in contrast to its cold, sharp nails._  

 _The hand on his pants stayed where it was, rubbing slow, soft circles into the skin of his abdomen as the one on his sides made its way up his body and to his neck where it wrapped its long fingers around his thin neck and just held it there, keeping Anthony anchored to the body tightly. It pressed its nails into his skin lightly, the sharp point threatening to break skin and pain his neck red. Anthony shuddered at the thought and the hand seemed to back off, keeping its presence known with the warmth and slight weight to his neck._  

 _There the hand stayed, the weight a momentary distraction from the opposite hand, which had started to unbutton his shorts and push their way down. Not inside his pants, but around the undone zipper and to his inner thigh where it gently pushed his legs apart, the others knees lifting and bending up to keep his limbs open, as the hand began to trace patterns on his inner thigh._  

 _The nails caught on scabs from broken bark that would dig into his thighs as he climbed up and down trees, red staining the deathly pale skin. Tony bit his lower lip as hard as he could when the hand ran its nail through the blood drops, smearing the dark liquid across soft skin. The fingers paused for a moment in their strokes, before putting slightly more pressure upon its ministrations; completely ignoring the throbbing length between Tony’s legs._  

 _He gasped when the hand on his neck finally moved, making its way down his neck and towards his chest where the nails tore the soft fabric of a shirt off the heated and gasping body; where they traced more random patters upon the pale skin; triangles and circles and lines that made no sense to Anthony and-_  

 _The hand in between his legs finally trailed higher again, slipping into the shorts to move the fabric down his legs, thrown off to the side to be forgotten. It left his entire body exposed to the hot, moist air of the room. The hand gently wrapped around his cock and Anthony cried out, back arching when the hand began to move, firmly stroking his dick in slow, sensual movements._  

 _The hand on his chest let its nails fall over his nipples, the nubs hardened and sensitive to the lightest touch. By now, Anthony was panting, hips trying to jerk up into the hand and crying out when the hand squeezed him in warning. His nails dug into soft fabric when the hand refused to speed up, the slow ministrations enough to keep him hard, but not enough to push him over the edge. “Please, Please oh god just a little faster~”_  

 _He begged, letting out a moan that turned into a_ _high pitched_ _whine when the hand obliged; thankfully speeding up its strokes across his dick, its thumb traced the head with every stroke up and let its finger press down against the sensitive vein under his head when it stroked downwards. By now, Anthony was a crying mess; tears clumping in black lashes, lower lip swollen from his teeth, his lips loose and allowing weak pleas of “More,” “Faster,” and “Almost please just a little more_ _-“_  

 _Anthony felt light and dizzy; the world around him was hazy and spinning. The only thing he could concentrate on was the feeling of soft lips pressing against the back of his neck, nose moving sweat dampened hair out of their way so the soft, deep voice could whisper sickly sweet things in his ear; “Absolutely beautiful, my dear.” It purred, a slight accent slurring the words together. The hand on his chest came back up to grasp a handful of hair, jerking his head back to rest on a broad shoulder._  

 _He felt like he couldn’t control his body; when he tried to force his arms up to push at the hand on his cock, all it did was grasp at the thick wrist, nails biting into skin as the hand jerked him off feverishly. The mouth at his ear trailed down, and Anthony could see a head full of short, blonde hair in his peripheral, but he couldn’t force his head to move to get a better look._  

 _The lips pressed to his neck, hot breath fanning across pale skin as teeth bit into his neck; the sharp sting the last thing he could feel, aside from the hot buzz clouding over his body for a split second before his orgasm punched through him. He opened his mouth, a loud moan leaving it before the hand in his hair removed itself, thrusting three fingers into his hot, wet mouth._  

 _Anthony cried out around the solid fingers, his back arched up suddenly, his toes curled and he could feel tears cascading down his cheeks heavily. His toes curled and his entire body went limp against the larger_ _form. The_ _hand didn’t stop stroking him until he started to whine softly, limbs finally able to move and attempting to shove the warm hand off his cock, the sensitivity pushing to_ **_“Too much, not enough”_ ** _as a shiver wracked through his body, starting at his spine and spreading through his entire being._  

 _The hand didn’t listen, it continued to pump its_ _fist_ _around his cock, and when Anthony tried to remove the offensive grip around his cock, another pair of arms wrapped around him; it crossed his wrists on his chest and gripped them tight, while another wrapped around his hips tightly, pressing his ass into its dick, the hard length hot against his sweaty skin._  

 _He could feel a sob rise out of his mouth before he could stop it, mouth still drawn around the pair of fingers forced onto his tongue. The sensations were painful, pushing his brain into mush as he cried out, a cold sweat covering him as his dick hardened against his will._  

 _“P-Please, please stop it’s too much I-I_ _\- “_ _he_ _felt the hand in his hair release its tight grip in favor of gently petting his sweat damp hair back from his brow, teeth gently nipping at his earlobe as it quietly hushed his cries._  

 _“Just a little more, it’s alright you can do it.” His back arched at one particular rough stroke before the hand left his length, Tony’s body becoming lax as he panted for breath. His muscles melted into the body behind him when he felt them move beneath him, the arms wrapped around him released him, preferring to hold him gently as everything spun, his body now pressed into the comforter as the man finally came into frame._  

 _The man was…hot. That was the best word his lust-cladded brain could muster. He had dark skin, a nice caramel color (Which honestly made Anthony jealous cause he spends five minutes in sunlight and suddenly he was as red as a lobster), he was very well built; tight muscle stretching skin taught. His eyes were a striking yellow, comparable to a_ _snakes’_ _eyes as the dark gaze bore into Anthony’s very being. His smile was sharp (Literally; his teeth looked like a mix between dog and snake) and his hair was a thick mess of blonde atop his well-shaped face._  

 _His cheek bones were high and jaw line sharp; honestly, he looked like a mix of every male model Anthony has ever seen, into one being. He felt dazed for a moment before those teeth made contact with his bottom lip, lightly nipping them as the man above him laughed deeply._  

 _The yelp Anthony let loose allowed the model to slip his own extremely long tongue into his mouth, wrapping around Anthony’s normal-sized tongue. It squeezed him for a moment before leaving to taste every inch of his mouth and-wow._  

 _The next moments passed in a blur of hot breath and slick tongue in him before that mouth moved down, nipping on his jaw lightly before trailing down, to his neck._  

 _He roughly bit into the junction where shoulder met neck, blood pooling into his mouth as Anthony moaned pitifully, his entire body jerking upon contact. His arms came up to wrap around broad shoulders, nails digging into dark skin as the man pulled his mouth from his neck, licking the wound lightly._  

 _He looked up into Anthony’s eye, lips pulled up into a smirk as his tongue came out to lick at the wound as Anthony tried to catch his lost breath, muttering out, “Who are you?” He chuckled deeply, rising up to rest his chin on Anthony’s chest as he purred, his eyes half lidded and wet mouth_ _parted_ _, sharp canines glowing in the dim light of the room-_  

 

Anthony’s upper body jerked up from his bed, lungs gasping for air and body flushed, clothing sticking to slick, sweaty skin. His shorts felt sticky and gross, causing him to cringe as he stumbled and limped his way into the bathroom, slowly peeling his clothes off as he hopped into the shower, chilled water forcing him awake as he washed the short night’s sleep away.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He looked sick, he knew that. His body was small and brittle, pale skin stretched thin from too little food and not enough sleep, bones weak and showing on almost every point on his body. His cheek bones were high, and eyes sunken in and hollowed, an almost constant shadow under the bright blue eyes. Sharp and intelligent, though shining with joy. 

It’s not like he does it intentionally, there’s no effort, thought or process; he just doesn’t eat much, if at all. One meal lasts him days, if not a week and it showed in the way he acted, looked; he was a walking corpse.  

His grandmother was the only one who was actually concerned about him; mom was a mess of drama and mental disorders and dad was a disappearing act. Most week days (And weekends; he would see his parents for three or four days a month) he was alone in the large house, living off his grandmother down the road and the toast he made every other day. 

Growing up unintentionally starving wasn’t his plan; if he had known he would have eaten more, maybe go learn to cook for himself when he could. Though now, he realized it wasn’t normal; to look at a small plate of food and feel like it would last you a week. (The pancakes at the dinner was the only type of food he had eaten, minus Stanford's stew a week ago) 

Dipper tried to make him eat; and it helped, it really did!! He had gained three pounds in the past five months. but anything more than something like a single pancake made him physically sick, forcing the food back where it came from.  

He was trying though, he really was. 

Dipper and Mabel were his best friends, no doubt; he would have loved to have the both of them next to him right now, but Mabel was studying for college. The only reason Dipper didn't join her is because he was already way ahead of what is needed to be accepted, not only for college, but a full ride scholarship as well.  

Tony himself was already joining DIpper with a scholarship. He always joked about no food=more time to study, but that normally made the twins uncomfortable, so he kept that particular joke to himself. In fact, any self-deprecating joke he had (Specifically about his weight) was kept to himself.  

Now that he had no work left to do (Minus a book report the teacher assigned him for the last summer he had before college, cause she's a bitch) he had a lot of free time, which he wasn't used to; he let DIpper have his time with his friends, and the Stan's were running the shop, so he tried to stay out of their way.  

Funny, no matter where he went he wasn't needed. Like a dogs bone it got tired of chewing, left outside to turn to dust; except he probably doesn't taste very good. Having nothing to do was both a blessing and a curse, as he had a lot of free time to do fuck-all.  

He went back to the big mountain hole, but there wasn't much to do now that he had already gone through every book he brought with twice, and he's only been here for a few weeks. He climbs the trees, and runs through the forest, trying to burn some of the nervous energy he always had when alone.  

Soon enough, it got too hot to really do anything inside, so he was almost always out in the forest, where the air was always a bit cooler. He felt drawn, addicted to the place. He's overall been avoiding sleep as much as possible, running himself down to the ground.  

On the eighth day, he found himself leaning against Otho, his sunken eyes burning in tandem with his chest, exhaustion tugging at his consciousness; he could feel the darkness tugging at the corner of his eyes as he let his head plop down on the statue, suddenly feeling much more life-like than it did a few moments before. 

The last thing his muddled brain registered, was a pair of warm hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him into the darkness of blissful sleep. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 _The bed's chamber was dim, light barely reaching his eyes from where he was sitting. How'd he_ _get_ _here? The last thing he remembered was the forest, his empty stomach trying to drain him, all his sleepless nights muddling together and- "Calm down, you're_ _gonna_ _hurt yourself if you keep over thinking everything." The voice, the same voice from the night's before was right behind him, sending a wary chill up his spine, along with a feeling of helplessness and fear._  

 _He jumped to his knees shakily, spinning around on the same vast bed from all those nights ago, tired eyes wide and frantic as he searched the darkness of where the voice had been. His legs felt cold and exposed when he spun around, the pale expanse of his thighs obvious in the dim lighting. He had been changed out of his short sleeve and shorts into something akin to a sun dress, a light shiny gold fabric that reached the top of his thighs with a black sash around his waist, his lace sleeves_ _poofing_ _out at his wrists. He jumped to the large drapes, forcing them apart and tumbling out of the bed, the change in the atmosphere almost_ _tangible_ _._  

 _The room was vast, stretching out into the size of the entire Shack. There was a large fire place in the corner of the room, illuminating the walls dimly. The large bookcases surrounding the small teen seemed to tower over him, and the bear fur rug he fell onto felt like it would swallow him whole, the soft fur an odd comfort in his moment of panic. "Hey!" He called out, pushing up to his knees on weak arms, face twisted in anger and fear (Although to this day he'll deny the later, as usual) No answer came. "Hey, who's in here? I know you can hear me!" He was on his feet now, thin hands balled into fists by his sides. Again, silence was his only answer._  

 _"Dream, this is all just some morbid, exhaustion_ _fuleled_ _dream, and I'll wake up in a little bit confused and everything will be just fine."_  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 _Bill wasn't one for surprises; he hated not knowing everything, all the time. This, is his one exception; the fact the little thing could speak was a pleasant surprise in of itself, but he was standing, screaming for a fight. The teen was skinny; skinnier than what even Bill knew wasn’t healthy, pushing his body near the point of breaking almost every day._  

 _The little thing seemed interesting when he first appeared to Bill, talking to both himself and the statue that had previously held the demon’s consciousness. He would talk to him about the simplest things, like what he had read about a few weeks prior to visiting Gravity Falls, and why he_ _preferred_ _banana-pancakes more than anything else. He also enjoyed to read things out loud, as opposed to allowing_ _the silence stick in the air like fog. The small teen refused to do anything half way, which meant Bill got to watch him furiously climb every tree within a twenty-foot radius of his vision_ _because he bet himself he couldn’t, skin_ _tearing, thanks to the bark and fury swallowing the teens bright eyes. (Although he never did like the way the rough bark ruined the otherwise unblemished skin, that was his job.)_  

 _He did enjoy the way his dress fit the young teen; the fabric was tight against the small body, showing the curve of his waist and the (Although mildly concerning) sharp angle of his hip-bones. Tony, a little ball of pure rage-fueled hell-fire when you prod the flames right, was standing in his domain, barely dressed and helpless._  


End file.
